This chapter has been heavily edited for the rating system. Thank you for all for your encouraging reviews (which have been preserved here instead of merging this with the last chapter), as they are all considered in response to the full version, which can be found on Teaspoon. I couldn't remove the chapter completely, as this part is necessary to understand the rest of the story.
The Doctor gave himself to Rose, learning what pleased her, and she did her fair share of exploring his own body. Neither could want for greater physical compatibility. While Rose was emotionally sated, the Doctor found his own Gallifreyan yearnings sudden and without warning, needing her not just in body but in mind. The impulse had come out of the depths of his being, a primal and desperate and sudden need.
He hadn't asked Rose beforehand for permission, hadn't thought to ask yet. "Please, Rose. Please..." he pled of her, the broken words all he could manage.
"Yes," Rose breathed as she slowly released her hold on him and lowered herself to look into his eyes.
The Doctor hadn't been clear, but Rose sounded so completely sure. He wanted her so badly, and in his charged state he chose instinct over reason. The Doctor shifted his weight to his left arm and brought his right up to her head. His first two fingers pressed to her temple, but his mind reached beyond flesh and bone.
Rose gasped as the Doctor's fevered mind opened to her, the torrent of his pleasure slamming into her and spiraling with her own.
The Doctor stared into her eyes as he surrendered to the incoming flood. Rose's eyes rolled back, and as he dropped his head forward to kiss her, he soon followed her into sightless bliss. Tail down, feral, lupine eyes dropped in a bowed head before him. Layers of time, back through Rose's few short years of life crashed over him in wave after wave, the lovers' strong physical connection acting as an amplifier.
The Doctor bellowed into her mouth as his soul fused to hers, and Time itself separated from him for one sacred moment. Perception of his surroundings gradually returned. Tension drained from his body and lethargy dragged at his limbs, and the Doctor opened his eyes. Rose appeared unconscious, but he could still feel her essence coursing through him, eagerly and actively searching him. Gently, the Doctor lowered them fully to rest on the borrowed Bosthinatian blanket, rolling them onto their sides to rest more comfortably.
All confusion and doubt as to whether their species were mismatched now seemed to be a silly, childish notion to the Doctor. He nuzzled Rose's face and she opened her eyes. His mind was pleasantly full, sated in a way he couldn't remember ever feeling before. He tried to catch her eye the times he pulled back far enough, but Rose wasn't seeing him. Worry momentarily gripped his exhausted hearts, but the feel of her presence within reassured him. She was a bit overwhelmed and it wasn't really a biological blindness. Rest was what she needed.
The Doctor folded part of the blanket over them, nuzzled close and closed his eyes. They fell asleep together, the Doctor chasing after Rose's dreams.